Fading Skies and Restless Hearts
by ValerieKathryn
Summary: NO CULLENS JUST WOLVES AND HUMANS! i suck at summaries...zaria runs away to america and gets into a little trouble, meets a bad-boy wolf, all that...PAULxOC EMBRYxOC R&R! rated M cuz im paranoid.


**Disclaimer: ALMOST everything goes the amazing Stephenie Meyer. just not my stuff.**

**this my first fanfic that i want to continue, im pretty much giving up on the other. and i wanna see if anyone noticces a certain name...go!**

I pulled out a fresh note card from my desk and a black pen. On it I wrote two simple words.

I'm done.

I didn't cry as I wrote this, even though I would be leaving my family. I didn't really feel any other emotion than…relief. I guess I was glad to be leaving this world. I was sick of having to pretend.

I peered at myself in the mirror above my desk. I saw a very plain girl staring back at me. Pale skin with basically no color in it, which was only made more noticeable by the large black eyes surrounded by spider-like eyelashes. Her hair was long and wavy, the darkest of browns and reaching a foot below her shoulders. No, _my _shoulders. My nose was a little wide and my lips, I don't know, were just lips. I had a round face and absolutely no discernable cheekbones.

I threw my hair up in a sloppy ponytail, which on some girls looked sexy, but on me it just looked dumb. I sighed, and stood up.

I was 5' 1" and had a "curvy" body, meaning I was short and squat. I weighed about 102 pounds, which wasn't a lot but was for someone who used to be a twig. I had large boobs, filling a C cup nicely, and an even bigger butt. But in London guys wanted the stick-thin model-type. I'm 14 and I always feel pressured to be perfect but I just can't.

My backpack now slung around my shoulders and my new hiking boots in place, I picked up the note card and gave my room one last glance. A massive wrought iron canopy bed in the middle of a white room, with everything but my desk, dresser, and nightstand being white. With the exception of all my books on one completely shelved wall, floor to ceiling.

You could say I liked to read.

I shut the door before I could begin to regret my decision. Storming into the kitchen, I threw the note card onto the counter and grabbed the cookie jar. Inside was over $10,000 cash. I was greedy and took $4,000, figuring it could get me wherever I wanted to end up.

When my parents got home they'd find the note and figure out that almost half of the emergency money was missing and hopefully they'd be sober enough to put two and two together.

Just as I entered the elevator a vision overtook me.

_I jogged down a small driveway toward a cute little red house, no, past it. I came to a little garage and stepped inside, where I was immediately enveloped into a scorching hug._

_"Hey Zar!" said the woman as she pulled back from me. "I want you to meet Seth, my little brother, and Paul."_

_One of the men -no, boys? - stepped forward and shook my hand. My grasp was lost inside his._

_"I'm Seth Clearwater. Leah's brother." He introduced himself politely, smiling._

_"Zaria Oborskaia. And yeah, I'm Russian." I smiled and laughed._

_"Now where did Paul go?" Quil asked rhetorically._

_Jake snorted. "Who knows, who cares."_

_Hurtling out of nowhere came a wrench, making a beeline for Jacob's face. He caught it right before it hit in between his eyes. He sighed. "Found him."_

_And in through the door came one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen. Sure, he had the same Quileute features as everyone else, but…they just looked better on him._

_Paul stopped in the doorway for a moment, seeming to stare at me. He regained his composure and shook my hand._

_"Paul Gray." He said. We both smiled._

_Behind my back I heard the word 'imprint' being whispered around._

_Imprint? What did that mean?_

"Gah!" I held my head in my hands for a few seconds before exiting the elevator. I waved to Matt, the concierge, on my way out.

As I stepped into the pouring rain I was able to immediately herd down a taxi. One of the perks of living in a large city like London.

"Where to, Miss?" the driver asked.

"Airport. And quickly, please."

Once I got to the airport I ran inside and purchased a first-class ticket to America using my frequent flier miles. Sure, the account and miles were fake, but that just made me untraceable.

I passed through security easily, them only giving me a strange look at what was in my bag. Clothes, flip flops, tampons, the usual. But also six years worth of figure skating medals and dresses, and also my skates.

When we moved to Vancouver, Canada when I was six, I immediately took up skating. I competed all the time, and for my last competition when I was twelve I spent over $800 on a custom-made dress. Once I was at Regionals, I skated to place second, qualifying for Sectionals. At Sectionals, I placed third. Next came Nationals. As in, what would've qualified me for the Olympics if I was old enough. I placed ninth. Not good enough.

That was the end of my skating career seeing as we were moving to Madrid. Like, Spain. I didn't want to go to another rink and skate because I loved my old rink. So once we got settled in Madrid I hung up my skates forever.

Once the plane took off I settled in for a nice nap as I made my most, or should I say least, memorable journey across the pond.

**So, did anyone notice? Paul Gray of Slipknot, R.I.P.**

**reviews make me wanna update more...but i wont be able to for at least a week cuz i'll be on vaca in maine! sorry D: R&R!**


End file.
